


Understanding Jane

by Maeve_of_Winter



Series: Songs About Jane [5]
Category: The Trixie Belden Mysteries - Julie Campbell Tatham & Kathryn Kenny
Genre: Angst, Female Characters, Female Friendship, Female Protagonist, Gen, High School
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 12:24:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8713843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maeve_of_Winter/pseuds/Maeve_of_Winter
Summary: Jane begins her dubious attempts at redemption by coercing the BWG girls into having a sleepover.Written for BonnieH's Circle Writing Challenge at Jixemitri.





	

_“I’m having trouble understanding Jane.”_

—Icicle Works, “Understanding Jane”

* * *

A knock on the door of her bedroom interrupts Trixie Belden from neglecting her math homework, and she jumps, glancing guiltily at the doodles in the margins of her notebook. She began with the full intent of practicing her equations, but algebra is immensely dull.

“Come in,” she calls, sliding her pencil inside the textbook to mark the page and shutting it. As of now, she’s not getting any work done, anyway.

Her mother enters the room. “Phone for you, dear,” her mother says.

Trixie rises and meets her mother halfway, smiling as she accept the cordless receiver. “Thanks, Moms.”

“I’ll leave you to it,” her mother says, and exits.

Lifting the phone to her ear, Trixie answers. “Hello, this is Trixie Belden speaking.”

“Trixie Belden, schoolgirl shamus? No _way_ . I’m, like, _so_ honored,” a feminine voice, thick with sarcasm, replies.

Trixie scowls. “What do you want, Jane?”

“You know me, Trixie.” Jane Morgan’s smirk is evident even over the phone. “As usual, I’m just trying to be hospitable and friendly.”

“Yeah, right,” Trixie retorts.

“No, no, honestly,” Jane says. “I’m just calling to extend an invitation. I want to invite the three Bob-White girls to a sleepover at my house on Friday.”

“What?” Trixie doesn’t bother curbing her disbelief. “Why?”

“To make amends for my previous unkindness, of course.” Jane’s tone oozes false sincerity. “I just want to show all three of you that I regret my actions, and that your happiness is my chief priority. As you expect it to be the chief priority for everyone, right?”

“Whatever.” Trixie rolls her eyes. “I don’t think I’ll be going to your sleepover, Jane. And I doubt Di or Honey will want to, either.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t count on that,” Jane returns smugly. “I expect Diana will be calling you soon. We’ll have dinner at the sleepover, and be ready for some complicated, multi-step crafting activities. My house, Friday afternoon, at five o’clock. Ta for now.”

Jane hangs up before Trixie can adequately respond. As few seconds pass as Trixie stares at the phone in disgust, but her concentration on scorning Jane is broken by the buzzing of her cell phone. Where did she leave it, again?

After several seconds of frantically scouring her room, Trixie finally locates her phone on her dresser, beneath a pile of fresh laundry. The name on the screen tells her the caller is Diana.

“Hey, Di,” Trixie answers breathlessly. “What’s up?”

“Oh, Trixie,” Diana wails into the phone. “I don’t know what to do!”

“Calm down,” Trixie orders, her detective instincts taking over. “And tell me what’s wrong. I need to know all the details so I can help.”

Diana took a deep breath. “While I was out, Jane Morgan called my mother and told her she was arranging a sleepover for Friday night. She invited me and said she was also inviting you and Honey, and because my parents really like Jane and think she’s really smart, my mother already accepted for me!”

“So that’s what Jane was planning!” Trixie exclaims. “I’ll bet anything Jane guessed you were out and deliberately set up the situation so your mother would agree to the sleepover without consulting you.”

“I don’t know what to do!” Di’s tone is panicked. “Jane’s been much nicer to me since the show finished, but that was barely more than a week ago. I don’t know if I can handle a sleepover with her!”

“Can’t you explain to your parents what happened during the play?” Trixie asks. “They wouldn’t make you hang out with Jane if they knew how mean she can be.”

“Oh, yes, they would,” Diana replies woefully. “Jane basically walks on water around here, because of how well she does in school, especially with her always winning science and math competitions. Almost every other dinner, my parents mention she’s in the newspaper for another award. And I’ve never told my parents about any troubles at school I’ve had with anyone. Not when I was losing friends from being rich, and certainly not when Jane was making trouble during the play.”

“But why?” Trixie questions, puzzled.

“I was embarrassed,” Diana confesses. “I thought it was bad enough that I was awful at school academically. I would sound like a complete loser if I told them I also sucked at school socially. I don’t want to disappoint them.”

“Well, Di, Honey and I aren’t going to disappoint you,” Trixie says staunchly. “If you have to go to Jane’s sleepover, the two of us will go with you.”

* * *

Their next Bob-White meeting is on Wednesday, and after official business is through, Trixie announces Jane’s scheme.

“She virtually blackmailed Diana into a sleepover with her,” Trixie reports grimly. “Honey and I are going, too, now, because we couldn’t just let Di face that alone.”

“Forsooth, the most absolute of nefarity lurks in an observance of the gloaming,” Mart replies in a bored tone, absently running a hand through his head of sandy curls. Sometime before his sophomore year began, he abandoned his signature crew cut and allowed his hair to grow out. “Doubtless, Jane is a clandestine champion of psychotronics, and aspires to recruit you into her coven to serve as fellow adolescent antagonists.”

“Didn’t you used to date Jane?” Brian asks Dan conversationally.

“Yeah.” Dan smirks, his glacier blue eyes burning bright in his face. The icy color is emphasized by the sharp contrast of his ivory skin again his black hair and nearly all black attire. “We weren’t good for each other, though, so we had to break up. Wish I could have made it work. Jane is one of a kind, no doubt about that.”

“Whenever you’re done singing Jane’s praises,” Trixie snips.

“Hey, a slumber party.” Jim seems inspired by the notion. “Brian, Mart, while the girls are at their slumber party, could we BWG men have a sleepover at Crabapple Farm?”

“I don’t see why we couldn’t,” Brian answers. “I think that’s the weekend Moms and Dad are taking Bobby, Larry, and Terry to that Pennsylvania farm show. May God have mercy on their souls.”

“This is the perfect time for us to watch all three extended edition _The Lord of the Rings_ movies,” Mart tells Dan excitedly.   

“Don’t worry for a moment about Jane,” Honey says consolingly to Diana. “Trixie and I will be with you every step of the way.”

Later, as the other BWGs vacate the clubhouse, Honey pulls Trixie aside.

“Trixie,” she says seriously. “I know you haven’t fully forgiven Jane even after she apologized, but --”

“I don’t trust Jane,” Trixie states flatly. “Look, Honey, I know I’m no ‘Miss Manners’ myself, but I thought it was really tacky for Jane to show up at Diana’s cast party after Jane was so horrible to Di for the first couple of weeks. And I’m not sure why she’s set up this sleepover, but I don’t think it can be for anything good.”

Honey sighs. “That may very well be true, but please try to remember how nervous Di is about spending time with Jane. I think she believes her parents prefer Jane over her.”

“Statistically, I suppose someone has to prefer Jane,” Trixie says waspishly.

“Trixie.” Honey’s usually gentle features are set in a firm glare. “I want you to help me. When we go to Jane’s sleepover, I’m going to do my best to keep the situation smooth, but I can’t do it without your cooperation. I don’t want you picking fights with Jane or making Di any more uncomfortable than she already is.”

“Fine,” Trixie agrees grudgingly.

* * *

On Friday, just past five o’clock, Tom drops off Trixie, Honey, and Diana at Jane’s home. The house is the sprawling Tudor Trixie remembers from childhood, on Silent Springs Drive, a little bit past the Whispering Pines development, set back a good distance from the road. The lawns are enormous, and its perimeter, as well as the long, winding driveway, is thickly wooded for privacy.

“What a beautiful home!” Honey remarks. “So grand, but quaint and classical. I think it almost looks like a cottage converted into a mansion.”

“I always did love coming here when I was younger,” Diana says with a smile.

Honey looks at her with surprise. “I didn’t know you knew Jane when you were younger, Di.”

Diana nods. “We were all good friends, actually. Jane, Trixie, and I used to play together all the time when we were in elementary school. But when we grew up, I guess we grew apart.”

“By the time she got to high school, Jane developed a massive ego and a terrible attitude,” Trixie opines.

Honey doesn't respond, and Trixie theorizes she's absorbing the new information.

The elaborately beveled front doors are answered by a smiling young woman with light brown hair. “You must be Jane’s friends. I’m Lily, Jane’s cousin. I’ll be supervising tonight.”

“I’m Trixie, and this is Honey, and Diana.” Trixie points to each of her friends in turn.

“Lovely to meet you all.” Lily shakes each of their hands, as well as Tom’s. “I’m in town for a couple of days for a conference in Manhattan. I’m happy to say it finished early this afternoon. I’ll mostly be reviewing my materials, but I’ll be just upstairs, if you need anything.”

The girls wave goodbye to Tom, and Lily holds the doors open for them as they tote their luggage inside the house. The interior hasn’t changed drastically from when Trixie visited back when she was younger, but even compared to the luxurious decor of the Lynch and Wheeler mansions, the aesthetics are tasteful and impressive.

Yet the furnishings are carefully arranged and the ornamentation picturesque to the point that it seems artificial. In all honesty, Trixie can’t help but think that it all looks more like a photo shoot set for a house and garden magazine rather than an actual family home.

“Jane’s down in the rec room,” Lily tells them, leading them to the basement door. “You girls have fun — I'll be upstairs if you need me.”

In spite of her negative opinion of Jane Morgan, Trixie can't help but be impressed at the basement layout. The rec room is actually one large area, with the staircase against one wall, and an extensive home bar at the other. In between, there’s a deluxe pool table and a carpeted area with several plush chairs and sofas flung around a large screen TV. The decoration is country style, with bright lights, highly polished hardwood, and a tiled stone floor.

Jane herself stands behind the bar, adding sherbet to a pitcher of pale orange punch. She glances up as the BWG girls descend the stairs.

“Thanks for coming,” she says, a quick smile flashing across her face. The happy expression seems borderline foreign on her features. She gestures at the buffet spread out across the top of the bar. “Grab a plate and get yourself some food. I'm just finishing the punch.”

“Thanks, Jane,” Honey, ever composed, quickly responds. “Where should we put our things?”

“By the TV is fine,” Jane says carelessly, setting the punch with the collection of other drinks. “One of the couches folds out, so two of you can take that bed while another one sleeps on the regular sofa. I’ll take the floor. We should have enough room, but we can shift the furniture if we need to.” She grabs one of the waiting glasses, ladles in ice from the bucket, and pours herself a glass of iced tea. She then moves out from behind the bar, and as she does, an enormous, fluffy dog ambles after her.

“Oh, what a cute dog!” Honey cries, rushing forward to stroke the dog's head. “I've never seen one quite like it before.”

“This is Pepper,” Jane says, stroking the dog’s neck fondly. “My Uncle David gave him to Bill and I just over two years ago, when he was a puppy. He's a Caucasian Shepherd Dog. They're popular herding dogs over in Europe.”

Diana and Trixie join Honey in greeting Pepper, who seems delighted at the attention he's receiving.

“He must have been expensive, if the breed isn't common in the United States,” Diana comments.

“He's actually a rescue,” Jane informs them. “He belonged to an older couple who were moving to a retirement community. They already had one dog, but they couldn't keep them both at their new home. They decided to give Pepper to the shelter, with all of his fees paid, because they knew a puppy had a better chance of being adopted.”

“He's lucky to have found such a good home,” Trixie says in spite of herself. While she has her own issues with Jane, she knows from seeing Jane at her uncle’s clinic that she cares deeply for animals.

“When we adopted him, Bill and I actually called his previous owners to let them know he was with a new family,” Jane says, patting Pepper’s head affectionately once more, before going to rinse off her hands at the sink. “They were relieved.”

After another few minutes of lavishing Pepper with attention, Trixie, Diana, and Honey also wash off and grab a plate for food.

“Anything that's a must-try, Jane?” Diana asks conversationally.

Trixie looks at her friend with raised eyebrows, surprised by her confidence.

Jane does not seem perturbed by Diana's sudden boldness. “The calamari is excellent. And the Reese's Cup cookies I made are very good, if I do say so myself.”

Watching Jane speculatively as she selects food from the platters, Trixie wonders about Jane's true goal for the evening. The suspicious part of her incessantly questions if the invitations for tonight are all part of a greater prank. Noticeably, Jane's not dressed as she usually would be, but she did say she planned for craft projects during the sleepover.

Tonight, Jane has eschewed her usual carefully accessorized vintage style. But even now, her outfit is not without trimmings. Vivid flowers are intricately embroidered at the top pockets of her pale blue jeans, trailing down her outer legs and emerging in full bloom at the ankles. Scrolled Western boots peek out from beneath the flared hems of her jeans.

Her black scoop neck shirt displays an elaborate stained glass image of the Disney villain Maleficent, and a motif of thorns coil down the three-quarter sleeves. A delicate chain with a dangling spinning wheel pendant loops closely around her neck; perhaps, along with the decorative rose pins fastening the Greek crown braid of her gleaming gold hair, it’s another fairy tale reference. Completing Jane’s ensemble is the chic, detailed bridgework of makeup across her face, obviously applied with experience and care.

Self-consciously, Trixie glances at her own attire of an old T-shirt, paint-stained jeans, a tracksuit sweatshirt, and worn sneakers. Even dressed casually, Jane effortlessly outshines her.

Then again, Trixie is here tonight to support Di, not to compete against Jane in a glamour girl contest. Putting herself down for not measuring up is pointless.

“So, Jane,” Trixie begins as she sets down her plate and glass at the table a few paces away from the bar. “What did you have in mind tonight?”

Before speaking, Jane delicately dabs at her mouth with a napkin before responding. Not that it was really necessary, Trixie observes. Foregoing the primary options of pizza, calamari, and stromboli, Jane only chose from the fruit and vegetable trays.

“Well, we have cable and satellite with the TV, and we have a bunch of movies we can watch.” Jane gives a careless shrug of her shoulders. “Also, I had some craft ideas — we could make lotion bars, bath bombs, or mud masks, if you like. Or all three. I have the supplies ready.”

“Bath bombs?” Diana repeats excitedly. “I love buying them at Lush, but I never realized you can make your own.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s easy,” Jane says with a wave of her hand. “Probably the worst part is waiting for them to dry. I have some molds I’ve been wanting to try out for a while now.” She gestures towards the pool table. “Once I put on a plastic tablecloth, we can get to work right away.”

“Where would you find molds for that type of thing?” Honey asks. “A craft store?”

Jane considers momentarily. “I guess you could find them there, but I’ve had these for years. They came with a no-bake refrigerator cookie kit I got from some distant relative when I was eight. Once I used a muffin baking pan and had good results, but you have have to put in the cupcake paper liners, or else you’ll get rust. I also have some silicone molds that are supposed to be used for jello or ice cubes or something like that, but they work just as well for these.”

“And the recipe?” Trixie inquires, dutifully contributing to the conversation as per her promise to Honey.

“No problem at all,” Jane replies. “Most ingredients are dry, but you throw in a couple of oils, and then you have your mix ready.”

Diana sighs happily. “Oh, I can’t wait. Those bath bombs in the store are all so pretty. It’s going to be so nice to have the chance to make my own.”

Again, Jane surprises Trixie with a surprisingly polite response. “I’m really excited that we’re going to be getting a Lush at the mall here in Sleepyside.”

As Diana excitedly agrees, Honey leans in close to Trixie. “Looks like they’re getting along swimmingly, now, aren’t they?”

“Almost too swimmingly,” Trixie remarks darkly.

The only response she receives is a dubious sideways glance from Honey.

* * *

Once they’re finished with dinner, Jane demonstrates the bath bomb-making process to the three BWGs.

“You mix your oils together first, using a carrier and an essential oil.” Jane gestures to the selection. “I prefer to use avocado oil as the carrier oil, and for essential oils I have peppermint and lavender. The most important part is to thoroughly mix the oils and the dry ingredients separately before combining them.”

“When should we add the food coloring?” Diana asks, already reaching for a packet of violet powder.

“I prefer to add it at the very end, when you’re also adding your dried herbs and/or glitter.” Jane sweeps an arm at the assemblage of decorations. “That way, you have the mix ready, and you can take some out and add it to a smaller bowl with the food coloring to have several different colors at once.”

“These must make very good gifts,” Honey remarks, sprinkling some rose petals into the molds of various different flowers. “Not only is it something you made with your own hands, but it’s also something useful.”

Jane nods. “I like to make little gift bags of bath bombs and lotion bars and give them to the residents at the nursing home I visit.”

Trixie is caught off guard. “I didn’t know you volunteered anywhere.”

The comment earns her a cold look from Jane. “Something that Trixie Belden, schoolgirl shamus, doesn’t know? _Shocker_.”

Wrenching open her mouth to deliver an undoubtedly scathing riposte, no one is more surprised than Trixie when Diana beats her to it.

“Lay off, January! You don’t always have to be nasty to everyone for each and every thing they say!” Diana glares in Jane’s direction for several moments before noticing their stares. “I’m sorry,” she adds sheepishly.

Jane seems contemplative rather offended. “Don’t apologize all the time. One at the right moment lets you seem graceful. Doing it every waking moment makes you seem weak.”

“. . . ‘January’?” Honey appears to be at a loss for words.

“That’s Jane’s real name,” Trixie supplies after several moments of thought. “But she’s gone by Jane for such a long time that I’d completely forgotten till now that she had another name.”

“Probably wishful thinking,” Jane replies, wryly amused. “It’s an absurdly stupid name, especially since my birthday is in May. But my father’s birthday is in January, and both of our birthdays on on the sixth of the months, so with appropriately convoluted reasoning, in a way I’m named after him.”

“There’s another issue with your name, isn’t there?” Honey queries delicately. “I know you used to have Sammael as your last name.”

“Sammael is the surname of my father’s family,” Jane explains tonelessly. “Due to recent events that resulted in my parents’ divorce proceedings, I’ve switched to Morgan, my mother’s maiden name.” A humorless smile tugs at her lips. “To make matters even more complicated, some years ago a few members of my father’s family have revised the surname Sammael to ‘Samet,’ which is why Uncle David has a different last name from my father, in spite of them being brothers.”

An awkward silence ensues. Trixie is sure all of them are considering the new information in reference to the various unpleasant school rumors about Jane’s parents.

“To reply to you original remark, Trixie,” Jane continues. “I do volunteer at nursing homes. Pepper is certified to visit residents, so I bring him along. You’d be surprised how much some of those folks cheer up when that furry doofus wanders over to say hello to them.”

Her reply breaks the building tension, and all four girls share a chuckle. Trixie and Honey trade a glance, and Trixie sees her own thoughts reflected in Honey’s eyes. While this arrangement is proceeding more smoothly than Trixie would have predicted, there are still going to be some rough patches, even if they are careful.

Throughout the evening, Jane continues to demonstrate various crafts and techniques, and they do their best to follow. The pinprick of jealousy that pierced Trixie earlier gradually swells into a blister the longer she watches Jane make friendly conversation with Diana and Honey.

There’s no doubt Jane is beautiful. She’s intelligent—her name is on the distinguished honor roll every semester. She wins all sorts of math awards, which Trixie has never accomplished and likely never will. Much as it burns Trixie to admit it, Jane is a talented actress, and had Diana not been gifted with the role of Juliet, Jane likely would have been the shoo-in for the part.

Not to mention that Jane apparently volunteers at retirement homes as well. Even here, at a sleepover, Jane has the chance to demonstrate her creativity as an artisan, leading them in making bath bombs and lotion bars and lip scrubs and God knows whatever else ridiculous concoction. It’s like no matter what Jane does, she’s always given another chance to outshine everyone else.

Jealousy is not an unfamiliar emotion to Trixie. How many times has she wished to have servants like Honey, or to have Diana’s beauty and slim figure?

But this time with Jane is different. Trixie is stuck here, watching in frustration as Jane put on airs in front of her and her friends, parading around like she’s some sort of beloved and charismatic icon. She did the same thing at the cast party, where she laid the charm on Mr. and Mrs. Lynch till they were both wrapped around her little finger.

In reality, all of them here tonight, including Jane herself, know she’s just a mean-spirited thief and a liar. Worst of all, Trixie can’t tell Jane what she really thinks of her — she has to help Honey support Di.

Her thoughts toward Jane are harsh, Trixie knows, and she can’t yet figure out why she can’t be more charitable toward Jane. She’s jealous, yes, but she’s never experienced it to this degree before. Not even at Happy Valley when Jim spent all of his time dancing with Dot—at least then, Trixie could tell herself that Dot was a great girl, and truly, she was.

But Jane is snide and nasty, and even with her apologies and (admittedly dubious) gestures of atonement, Trixie can’t find it in herself to forgive her, even when she makes an honest effort to let go of the issue. She can’t explain why she’s as determined as she is to keep this bitterness, to hold the grudge, but she is and she does, and it weighs on her.

With a low sigh, Trixie checks her watch. Her mother is picking them up at ten o’clock tomorrow, and it’s just before nine now. Thirteen hours of non-stop Jane to go.

* * *

An hour later, all four girls are sprawled in front of the colossal plasma screen television, having set aside creating beauty accessories in favor of relaxing on the leather sofa with snacks and drinks.

“Oh, it’s _Baywatch_ ,” Diana says excitedly. “ _Hawaiian Wedding_. Let’s turn that on—I love tropical weddings, and island weddings are so beautiful.”

Trixie snorts. “Let’s avoid _Baywatch_ , if only for the sake of our collective IQ. You know very well, Di, that the two of us need all the help we can get.”

“ _Shadowhunters_ is on,” Honey observes.

“Hard pass,” Jane says instantly.

“Not on your life,” Trixie replies to Honey at the same time Jane speaks.

Realizing the similarity of their response, she glances quickly at Jane, who only sips disinterestedly from her sparkling water.

“ _Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries_ ,” Trixie reads out loud from the scrolling guide on screen. “Let’s give that one a shot.”

Diana grins. “We can’t keep you away from a mystery, Trixie, not even at a sleepover.”

The episode is more than interesting, involving a high-society lady detective and a maid collaborating to solve the case. Though exciting, some of the content is more mature than Trixie expected, and she finds herself exchanging uncertain glances with Diana and Honey. Jane, however, seems completely unperturbed.

“That was very, um, intense,” Honey offers when the episode ends and the commercials start.

Diana seems taken aback beyond words, and Jane is simply filing her nails, so Trixie jumps in.

“I think I saw that _Smallville_ is starting close to this time. Why not watch that?” She suggests, changing the channel. On screen, a teaser for the upcoming _Supernatural_ episode is just ending, and a commercial for Lancome’s latest lipstick begins.

“Another sheer lip color. Such a novel idea,” Jane snarks. “The hell does anyone want with a lipstick that doesn’t stay on for more than five minutes, anyway?”

“Didn’t they already release something like that a few years ago?” Trixie wonders. “I could have sworn I saw a whole display of ‘revolutionary’ sheer lipsticks the last time I was in that beauty shop in White Plains.”

Honey’s hazel eyes twinkle with mirth. “Trixie Belden in a beauty shop? The last time we went to the mall, I couldn’t even drag you in there to buy a Christmas present for your mother. What on earth lured you inside?”

Trixie makes a face. “My mother forced me to go shopping for my birthday. She dragged me from store to store and made me try on a bunch of clothes so she could give them to me as birthday gifts.” She glances consideringly at Di. “Actually, I think I ran into you while you were getting a makeover done there, Diana.”

An odd expression settles on Diana’s features, but it’s Jane who speaks.

“You did. Trust me.” Jane’s voice is sharp with vitriol.

Barely able to bite down her impatience at Jane’s unpleasant tone, Trixie pins her with an annoyed stare. “What’s your problem _now_?”

“Like you don’t know,” Jane retorts, abruptly grabbing the TV remote and thumbing the power off.

“She really doesn’t,” Diana offers quietly.

“But she just so happened to bring it up out of the blue to _casually_ reminisce right in front of me?” Jane snaps. “Don’t insult my intelligence.”

Honey glances around at their faces, and then holds up a placating hand. “Hang on for a moment. Diana, Jane, what are you two talking about? What is it that Trixie is supposed to know or not know?”

Diana sighs. “Remember how I mentioned Trixie, Jane, and I were all friends when we were younger?” Seeing Honey nod, she continues. “Well, by the time it was the spring of seventh grade, my family had already become rich. As you know, I was very self-conscious about suddenly having so much money.”

Jane then breaks in. “One day, I arranged to have a shopping trip with Diana. When I get there to pick her up, she’s suddenly arranged to have Trixie over for lunch and can’t go. I tried to rearrange plans for a different weekend, because I was naive enough to think Diana honestly wanted to keep our plans as she said she did. But Diana couldn’t go that weekend, either. And yet when I went to the mall later that day, alone, guess who I saw?” She tosses a venomous glare at Diana, and then Trixie. “These two, hanging out, having a grand old time. Dear Di was too busy for me, but I guess she cleared her calendar for intrepid Trix.”

Reeling in surprise, Trixie takes a moment to absorb Jane’s words. “You saw us in the mall that day? And you think the two of us set that up deliberately because we wanted to hurt you?”

An unreadable expression flickers briefly over Jane’s lovely features, replaced seconds later by an equally strange stoniness. “Why wouldn’t you.” The words are phrased not as a question, but a statement, and her voice overflows with bitterness.

Immediately after the final syllable leaves Jane’s mouth, her cell phone buzzes to life, blaring some song Trixie’s never heard before. From the illuminated screen, though, Trixie can see that the caller is Troy Sammael, Jane’s father.

_“Your hands upon a deadman’s gun,_

_And you’re looking down the sights—”_

“Excuse me,” Jane mutters, grabbing her phone, fluidly rising, and rapidly making her way to the staircase.

_“—your heart is worn, and the seams are torn,_

_And they’ve given you reason to fight—”_

Watching her go, Trixie notes that it’s not until Jane is at the top of the steps that she answers her phone with a curt, “Hello?” She’s prevented from hearing any other part of the conversation when Jane closes the solid wooden door firmly behind her.

Eyebrows high enough to jump off her forehead, Trixie turns to a weary-faced Diana and a meditative Honey.

“Can you believe that?” Trixie asks, her voice riddled with bemusement. “That Jane actually thinks we teamed up to hurt her, like some sort of mean girl mafia? It was just a coincidence that Diana and I ran into each other at the mall that day.” Trixie glances at Diana. “Right, Di?”

Dragging a hand across her face, Diana sighs. “Jane was right about both times I cancelled on her. The first time was a legitimate accident. I agreed to go shopping with Jane without realizing my mother invited you over to our house for a luncheon.”

“I remember that!” Trixie exclaims. “I thought it was just me who made the visit awkward. I didn’t realize there was more of a background to the situation.”

Diana smiles weakly. “Don’t worry, Trixie. None of my problems with Jane are your fault. Especially not the second one, that time we met at the mall.”

“What’s the story there?” Trixie questions quizzically.

“After the luncheon mix-up, I felt extremely embarrassed,” Diana confesses. “I was so self-conscious and ashamed—I thought I ruined two friendships. The one between you and I, and the one between Jane and I. When Jane called me again to hang out, I was at once so relieved and yet anxious that I lied to her without even thinking about it. I told her I couldn’t go.”

“But then she saw you there,” Honey prompts gently.

Diana nod miserably. “And just like before, I felt so ashamed and helpless that I didn’t say hello to her. I just looked away and hoped the entire situation would just end there, and I could explain later. But then Trixie saw me, and then Jane saw the two of us.”

“And she’s despised both of us since,” Trixie blinks. “All that energy and anger over a misunderstanding.”

“No wonder she was as upset as she was about losing the role of Juliet to you, Di,” Honey muses. “Not only did you win over her, but she thought you went out of your way to cruel to her in the past.”

“That doesn’t excuse Jane’s actions,” Trixie insists.

“No, but I certainly think it casts them in a more understandable light,” Honey replies placidly.

“Any ideas about what we should do for right now?” Diana asks desperately, glancing from Honey to Trixie.

“Offer an explanation,” Honey suggests. “Offer apologies for the misunderstanding. _Do not_ apologize for anything that’s beyond your control, such as getting the role of Juliet instead of her.”

“I suppose that’s a good idea,” Trixie agrees reluctantly. “We are guests in her home at the moment.”

At that very moment, the basement door opens, and Jane descends the steps. “My apologies. I wasn’t expecting a call.”

“It’s no problem,” Diana responds hastily. “Look, Jane, I have something to tell you.”

As Diana relays the tale of the misunderstanding to Jane, Trixie scrutinizes their host’s face. Though her features are composed, Jane really doesn’t exhibit any kind of emotional response to the information revealed to her. Diana could just as easily be telling her about a trip to the beach or her efforts to start a community garden, Trixie theorizes, and Jane would be wearing the same noncommittal expression.

“So you see,” Diana finishes, “this was all a misunderstanding. I’m sorry that I lied and that I brought you pain, but Trixie and I were never trying to hurt you.”

Jane folds her arms over her chest. “Well, I accept your apology. The past is the past, after all, and now with the air cleared, I don’t mind leaving some unpleasant events behind me. And once again, I’m sorry for the way I acted toward you during the freshman play.”

“All forgiven, Jane,” Diana says with a tentative smile, which Jane returns.

Honey, ever tactful, prevents a potentially uncomfortable lull from occurring within the conversation. “Trixie, wasn’t there a show on TV that you wanted to watch?”

“Oh, yeah, _Smallville_ ,” Trixie remembers. She grabs the remote and switches the power on, just as opening theme song is playing.

Jane cups her hands around her mouth. “Woo-hoo, yeah! Let’s go, Remy Zero!” She throws back her head and laughs.

Trixie eyes her warily. When Jane breaks her perpetual snappish and icy demeanor and smiles and laughs like a normal human being, it’s almost like an alien spontaneously takes control of her body.

“Do you like superheroes, Jane?” Honey inquires conversationally. “I know Dan and Mart love them.”

“I like the mythos aspect,” Jane responds casually. “And I think Michael Rosenbaum does a great job as Lex Luthor. He’s very calm, controlled, and calculating. I wish he’d been more like that in _Batman Vs. Superman_ instead of a blatant ripoff of the Joker. I can’t stand the way Jonathan Kent—John Schneider—is written here, though. God, what an insufferable, sanctimonious jackass. The man epitomizes everything that’s wrong with small town morality.”

“I think John Schneider is so cute,” Diana says dreamily. “I just loved him as Bo on _Dukes of Hazzard_.”

When Jane and Diana are preoccupied with the television, Honey leans closer to Trixie and whispers so that only she can hear.

“I think something’s wrong with Jane,” she says.

Trixie swallows her bite of Reese’s cookie. “Yeah, you and me both.”

Even _sotto voce_ , the exasperation is evident in Honey’s tone. “I mean I think something’s bothering her. And I think we should try to befriend her and find out what. Think of it as our latest mystery.”

“Okay,” Trixie agrees, if a bit unenthusiastically. At least a mystery is involved. “Who knows? With her issues with Di and I all cleared up, Jane might not be so bad.”

* * *

Slowly entering awareness, Trixie grimaces at the odd taste in her mouth, a combination of iced tea and the mint flavor of her toothpaste and mouthwash. With a muffled groan, she checks her wristwatch—it’s almost four in the morning, less than three hours after they stumbled off to bed.

For several seconds, Trixie debates whether she wants to return to sleep or try to get a drink to rinse out her mouth. Finally, she slips out of the pullout bed, doing her best not to disturb Di, who’s sleeping beside her, or Honey, who’s asleep on the sofa nearby. Tiptoeing up the stairs, she’s proceeding into the kitchen when a blast of chilly air hits her. Looking around to determine the source, she notices that the door to the patio is open. Detective’s instincts on full alert, Trixie decides to investigate.

The patio is, of course, elaborate and perfectly picturesque, and Trixie is certain that in the full light it would prove to be the perfect combination of a _Better Homes and Gardens_ display and the pool set from _The Great Gatsby_. However, any thoughts on the decor vanish from her mind at the sight of a lone figure standing the edge of the deck, her hands resting on the railing.

Jane.

Silently, Trixie approaches her, giving Jane the opportunity to begin the conversation.

She doesn’t. Instead, Jane stands silently, her long, loose blonde hair tumbling down her back and drifting across her face. Her sleepwear consists of an embroidered silk robe open over a sapphire blue nightgown that’s very . . . _adult_ for a fourteen-year-old. The combination of the balcony setting and Jane’s pose and dress creates a strong resemblance to the cover of a supermarket romance novel cover, and Trixie can barely keep from rolling her eyes at the both unexpected and ludicrous scenario.

But she resolved to Honey to be nicer to Jane. And Trixie is a woman of her word, if nothing else.

“Beautiful night, isn’t it?” Trixie comments awkwardly, hugging herself from the cold. “Full moon, bright stars, a lot of light . . .”

Her voice trails off, and apparently her remarks are banal enough to bring Jane to at last acknowledge her.

“Trixie. Stop it. Please.” Jane sounds like she’s carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Complying with Jane’s request, Trixie falls silent and studies the other girl. Her features remain obscured by her hair until she lifts a hand and brushes several strands behind her ear, revealing trails of tears that gleam in the moonlight.

“What are you doing out here?” Jane asks, her voice exhausted.

“I—I was—” Trixie is nearly too startled at the evidence of Jane’s unhappiness to concentrate on forming a sentence. “I wanted to get a drink from the fridge. My mouth has this weird taste.”

Jane wipes at her eyes. “There’s a fridge downstairs, but you’re welcome to anything you find in the one up here, too.”

“Right. Um.” Trixie hesitates. “Are you okay?”

Jane sighs. “No. My mother’s gone, my brother’s left, and six weeks from now, my father is remarrying his mistress and bringing her two spawn to live with us. I’ve only recently stopped having physical ailments from the stress of being continually subjected to my parents’ war with each other. My life is constant gossip fodder for my classmates and their parents alike. And my father _hates_ me.”

“I’m sure your dad doesn’t hate you,” Trixie tries to console her. Her sympathy is slightly limited, though, dropping with the frigid temperature.

“I’m sure that he does,” Jane says flatly.

Uncertain of  how to navigate that particular line of conversation, Trixie switches topics. “ ‘Physical ailments’? Were you sick?”

“Sometimes.” Jane shrugs. “Mostly it was trouble eating and sleeping. I would have nausea and dizzy spells, too. I think it was just dealing with the stress and worry about my parents, and about the play and school and everything else. Once my mom left and the fighting finally ended, my symptoms stopped.”

“I didn’t realize you were going through all of that,” Trixie replies, unable to ease the feelings of guilt creeping up on her. Jane acted horribly, Trixie reminds herself. None of her behavior can be erased. But then again, there were underlying reasons for Jane’s behavior. Some of them were related to Diana and Trixie. Others weren’t.

“I didn’t want anyone to,” Jane says quietly. She sighs, lifting her face to the moon. “It’s cold out here, Trixie. You should go back inside.”

Internally cheering, Trixie catches herself before she dives back into the warmth of the house. “Aren’t you going back in, too?”

“I’ve got a lot to think about,” Jane says heavily. “I wasted so much effort and energy hating you and Diana for what I thought you did to me. I was prepared to hate the both of you for the rest of my life. And now, tonight, I find out it was all just a misunderstanding. I don’t have that anger anymore, that resentment. And it’s like a part of me is gone.”

If Honey were here, she would know exactly what to say and how to comfort Jane. But Trixie is on her own, and she doesn’t have much of a choice other than to give her best attempt.

“Well, it’s—” she pauses briefly to rub her arms vigorously and clench her teeth, trying to ensure they won’t begin chattering when she speaks. “Like you said earlier, the past is past. Why not move on?” Pushing aside any remaining grudge against Jane, Trixie decides to offer her hope. “I know Honey would like to be your friend. And I bet Diana would as well, now that our misunderstanding is cleared away.”

The slightest hint of a smile plays at the corner of Jane’s mouth as she meets Trixie’s gaze directly, her feline green eyes unusually soft. “Thank you, Trixie. That’s very considerate of you to say.”

Her words have a note of finality to them, and her dismissal, combined with the cold, drive Trixie to take her leave.

“Goodnight, Jane,” she says kindly. “Come inside soon.”

Solely focused on returning to the warmth of the bed, Trixie forgoes her drink and dashes back downstairs. Burrowing down in the blankets, she barely has time to contemplate the newly discovered information about Jane before sleep overwhelms her mind.

* * *

The next morning, Trixie is awoken by a variety of enticing scents; someone’s cooking breakfast up in the kitchen. Sitting up and stretching, Trixie observes that she’s the only one remaining in the basement. Gathering her clothes and washcloth, she treks to the bathroom to make herself presentable for breakfast before proceeding upstairs.

“Morning, Trix!” Diana chirps, pouring herself a tall glass of orange juice. “We only came upstairs a few minutes ago—I hope we didn’t wake you.”

“Don’t worry. I was dead to the world,” Trixie tells her, sitting down on one of the chairs where a place has already been set for her. “Anything I can do to help with breakfast?”

“No, we’re finished here,” Jane says, carrying a heaping platter of strawberry pancakes from the stove. Honey follows, in her hands a tray of fresh fruit, and Lily brings over a vat of breakfast potatoes. No sooner have all of them placed the dishes on the table does the chime of the doorbell sound, and Lily hastens to answer.

“That’s probably Moms,” Trixie says, blinking as she glances at the clock. “Wow, I didn’t realize it’s almost ten.”

Sure enough, Helen Belden follows Lily into the kitchen.

“Please feel free to eat with us,” Lily warmly tells her. “We were just sitting down for breakfast.”

“Thank you,” Helen says with a smile, joining them at the table. “Good morning, girls,” she says. “Why, Jane, don’t you look lovely.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Belden,” Jane says graciously. As usual, she’s wearing a darling outfit of an ivory knit dress with crimson suede boots decorated with Victorian-style buttons. Of course, both her hair and makeup are impeccably styled.

Even in spite of her resolve to try to be Jane’s friend, Trixie can’t suppress a surge of envy. Does Jane have to look so perfect _all_ the time? Not even Diana garners as many compliments as Jane somehow does. But Trixie is determined to be nice to Jane, no matter what it takes. She just needs some practice, that’s all.

“Troy would like to tell you again how grateful he is for agreeing to take Jane while he’s on his honeymoon,” Lily says to Helen. “I’d like to thank you, too. Unfortunately, I have to leave for a conference right after the wedding, or I would stay here with Jane.”

“Wait—what?” Trixie asks, glancing from Lily, to her mother, to Jane. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, didn’t Jane tell you?” Helen smiles at her daughter.  “Jane’s father is going out of town for his honeymoon during the first week in April. So Jane will be staying with us.”

Eyes widening, Trixie whirls to look at Jane, who merely smirks at her from over the rim of her coffee mug. Jane knew all along, even as she invited her, Di, and Honey to the sleepover, Trixie realizes, irritation spiking through her at the idea of being manipulated.

Well, Trixie reasons resignedly, struggling to check her annoyance, at least she would now definitely be able to practice being friends with Jane.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [BonnieH's Circle Writing Challenge](http://bonniesroadsnottaken.weebly.com/circle-writing-challenge.html) at Jixemitri.
> 
>  
> 
> **Elements:**
> 
>  
> 
> \- Maleficent OR any animated Disney Villain: Jane wears a shirt with Maleficent's picture.
> 
> \- Someone who has had a nickname so long that somebody else can't remember what his/her given name is: Trixie didn’t remember Jane’s real name was January.
> 
> \- Some reference to The Dukes of Hazzard: the show itself, the actors, the General Lee, Daisy Dukes, a car with doors welded shut or a specialized musical horn, etc.: John Scheider (Bo on The Dukes of Hazzard) appearing on Smallville.
> 
> \- The color orange: the punch Jane makes.
> 
> \- A big fluffy dog: Jane's dog, Pepper.
> 
> \- An island wedding: Baywatch Hawaiian Wedding.
> 
> \- A crossover of some kind.  Your story can be a crossover OR you can simply refer to a crossover within the story: Jane’s mention of Batman Vs. Superman.
> 
> \- Supernatural (the show OR supernatural phenomena in general): the TV  commercial for the TV show.
> 
> \- Hugh Jackman OR John Schneider OR Jensen Ackles OR Nathan Fillion: John Schneider as Jonathan Kent on Smallville.
> 
> \- In honor of the two versions of the Circle Writing Projects, include either a song OR a book that is about the Old West: Jane’s ringtone, “Deadman’s Gun” from Red Dead Redemption.


End file.
